Into the Unknown
by Oct0ber
Summary: Summary: Clarice is wounded and the good doctor unconscious, what will happen next? Begins during the events at Muskrat Farm. Follows novel canon for the most part. CHP. 4 is finally up!
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Clarice is wounded and the good doctor unconscious, what will happen next

Disclaimer: All due respect to Thomas Harris for creating these wonderful characters.

Chapter 1

Clarice Starling's mustang most certainly did not boom up the gravel service road to Mason Verger's estate, but rather stealthily crept to avoid any unwanted attention. It took every ounce of control in her body not to punch the gas when she heard the blood-curdling screams play across the speakers, but her experience and intuition held steady, for in reality she had no idea what to expect once she reached the barn. One side of her wanted to get there as soon as possible, the other half in some way hoped the journey would never end so that she wouldn't have to face what she was ultimately about to do. She slowed to a stop and got out of the car feeling both apprehensive and exhilarated.

_What do you do to get up your nerve, Clarice? Do you envision scenarios, tableaux's… _

Her father leaving for his night shift waving goodbye; her mother washing the blood out of his hat.

_Not the scenario I was hoping for…_

The barn door flew open. "Clarice Starling, FBI! Drop your weapon!"

_Of all the possible scenarios I imagined on the way over here, this was not one of them…_

Carlo and Pierro inside the pen froze in the middle of their preparations for the evening's events. Deputy Mogli, sitting in a chair propped against the wall, a cigarette falling from his mouth, extinguished on the dirt floor; and there in the flood light sat Dr. Lecter in all his glory, hoisted on a forklift, chained to a crudely-fashioned cross as if he were Jesus Christ himself.

"Ah, Special Agent Starling, so glad you could make it." He greeted her as if she'd just shown up fashionably late for a dinner party. He could smell her before he could see her-- smell her as she crouched behind the barn door working her nerve up. The scent of Evian skin crème, a mixture of fear and excitement, and the scent that was purely Clarice Starling was enough to make his pupils dilate a fraction of a degree.

"Nice to see you've kept your sense of humor, doctor." She quipped back.

"Get down on the ground. Keep your hands where I can see them." Without looking, Clarice retrieved two sets of handcuffs from her back pocket and threw them at Carlo and Pierro. "Cuff your hands to his ankles and vice versa. Do it now." Carlo hesitated a moment until he saw in her eyes that she would kill them both if they did not comply, and slowly put on the cuffs. Snapping back to reality, Deputy Mogli unwisely made a poor attempt to draw his firearm. He hadn't so much as flicked the button off the holster as Clarice shot a single bullet right through his deputy star. Carlo had known better than to move.

Clarice approached Dr. Lecter and retrieved a small knife from her back pocket. She was silently thankful that Mason had opted for the mask, since freeing the doctor meant that she would have to climb on to the forklift face to face with him.

"Tell me Clarice, did you like the shoes?"

"Shut up. Do right, and you'll live through this. You touch me, I'll shoot you."

"Spoken like a true Protestant."

_Brave little Starling, such strong words, though I highly doubt you actually mean them._

Clarice ignored the last comment as she proceeded to cut the rope binding his left hand. She truly did not know what she was going to do next. As soon as his left hand was free, she jumped down from the forklift and kept her gun fixated on him. She threw her third set of handcuffs on the ground in front of the forklift, and handed Dr. Lecter the knife.

"Cut yourself down, then cuff yourself."

"Just how many sets of handcuffs did you bring, Clarice?" He was taunting her as he cut the final straps on the back of the mask..

"Three."

"Three? Watch it, there were four."

Before she had time to turn around, Tomasso, armed with the tranquilizer gun aimed and fired a dart square into Dr. Lecter's chest. Dr. Lecter, his face giving no sign of pain or emotion, fell to the ground. Clarice fired three rounds blind into the direction of the dart, but Tomasso had taken cover. Quickly, she scrambled over to the doctor and pulled the dart out. It had bent on the breast plate-- she assessed the doctor may not have gotten the full dosage. As she pulled him behind the forklift for cover, Dr. Lecter seized her arm with a force that made her jump.

"599 Chestnut Cove, Chesapeake…" Maroon eyes faded into black as he lay unconscious on the barn floor.

Gunshots broke her silent revelry as Tomasso fired off two rounds-- one hitting the ground near Dr. Lecter's head, the other penetrating deep into her left shoulder. Clarice fell to the ground, cursing herself for losing focus, and darted behind the forklift for cover. Using the forklift's mirror, she was able to shoot three rounds into Tomasso's chest as he reloaded. Blood flowed from Clarice's shoulder leaving a wet-sticky feeling that made her sick to her stomach. Adrenaline dulled the pain for now, but she new it was just a matter of time. She could hear the pigs made wild by the scent charging the gate, and the doomed Carlo and Pierro, speaking frantically in Italian, desperately trying to crawl out of the pin. She seized hold of the doctor, pulled him out of the pin, and closed the main gate just as the pigs broke free, devouring Carlo and Pierro alive.

Starling's shoulder burned as she dragged Dr. Lecter to safety, and soon realized that there was no way she would be able to get him to the car. She would have to leave him, get her car, and drive back to the barn.

"_Make it quick, Starling." _She thought it odd in that moment that when speaking to herself, she would address herself by her last name, perhaps attempting to forge some sense of duty that no longer remained. She new she didn't want to leave the doctor alone, though the reasons for which were unclear. She grabbed her keys and jogged as quickly as her injury would allow her back to her car. She didn't want to think about what she was going to do next.

"_Do I call the FBI?"_ The thought of handcuffing the doctor and locking him in the trunk until the authorities arrived struck her as immensely comical in that moment. He had killed 16 people that they knew of and yet for some God-forsaken reason she hadn't the time to think of, the idea of seeing the doctor locked up for the rest of his life just felt-- wrong. Besides, what did she expect to happen when the FBI showed up?

"_Would they reinstate you, Clarice? Would they give you a big, shiny medal, your prestigious F--B--I?"_

"Get out of my head, Doctor." She quickly glanced around to make sure no one heard her speak aloud.

The cold, clammy truth was that she had killed four people that night, imposing as a law enforcement officer, while rescuing one of the most horrific serial killers the world has ever known. She would go to jail. _Truth's a bitch, ain't it._ She could almost see the smile playing on Paul Krendler's face. He would most certainly see to it that she would take full blame for all the events that took place.

"_Will you come to my cell and hold my hand, Clarice? We could have a lot of fun…" _She shuddered at the thought.

_Fuck the FBI, we're going to Chesapeake._

As she drove the mustang closer to the barn, she half-expected, half-hoped the doctor would be gone; yet there he was, lying perfectly unconscious in the same spot where she had left him. Christ her shoulder hurt. She opened the passenger door and with much difficulty, hoisted the doctor in, putting as little weight on her left shoulder as possible. When she finally got the doctor inside, she walked as calmly as her nerves would allow her to the driver's side, and never looked back.


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: Clarice is wounded and the good doctor unconscious, what will happen next

Chapter 2

Clarice Starling had never been to Chesapeake before and silently thanked Ardelia for talking her into getting a newer model cell phone with GPS capability. She had been driving for half an hour, and Dr. Lecter hadn't so much as moved. By now, her shoulder felt as if it were on fire, and she head begun to feel dizzy. The road signs were a blur, and the mile markers faded into the scenery, yet somehow she recognized the exit for Chesapeake and turned. The two-story house was located in a secluded neighborhood on the Chesapeake shore. It sat as the lone house on the end of the culdesac. On a clear day under different circumstances, Starling may have noticed how lovely the beach was, or how the ocean reflected the night sky; however, on this particular occasion, all she could do was curse the damned front-porch stairs. Carrying someone almost twice your body weight on a flat surface is harder than it seems; carrying someone almost twice your body weight with a bullet wound up a flight of stairs-- that's damned near impossible.

Clarice pulled into the driveway checking twice the number on the door to ensure that this was indeed the right house. She got out of the car and nearly fell down, not expecting how unsteady her legs would be. The dizziness had amplified, along with a pounding headache. She knew the door would be locked, but-- giving in to wishful thinking, she climbed the front porch stairs to check anyway.

_Locked. _She dreaded walking back to the car.

Carefully she opened the passenger door. Dr. Lecter lay just exactly as he had been the entire duration of the trip.

"Dr. Lecter…"

_-- No response --_

"Dr. Lecter, it's Clarice…"

_Of course, who else would it be dumbass? She rolled her eyes after stating the obvious._

"Dr. Lecter, I need the house key and it would be _really_ great if you could just-- wake up and give me the key."

_-- No response --_

She touched the doctor's shoulder for a moment before jerking her hand back, half-expecting the doctor to snap awake and issue some sort of mocking comment-- but nothing happened.

_Get it over with, girl._

She felt the doctor's pockets, first the right, then the left, but they were empty.

_Goddamn Sards must have taken them._

Clarice walked back to the house; she could feel herself growing weaker from loss of blood. She knew she had to get them inside before she passed out. Granted the house was rather secluded, but she didn't want to take any chances of alerting the neighbors.

"Think girl, think…"

Dr. Lecter was not the type to keep a spare key hidden in a flowerpot. The house had a garage that connected to the house. More likely than not, there would be a garage door leading into the house. She could bust out a side window, unlock the garage door, and carry Dr. Lecter inside on a flat surface. Not a great plan, but it was all she had. Starling walked to the side of the house and found a window located not too high on the first floor. _This will have to do._ She went back to her car, retrieved the metal lever from her car jack, and returned to the window. Starling took a deep breath and counted to three…

_1-- security system? 2-- yes or no? 3-- shattering glass……… no._

Grasping the lattice work, Clarice hoisted herself up with her good arm. Getting a good hold, she got one leg in, then-- losing her balance-- sliced her leg on the broken glass as she fell inside.

"Shit!" _Grasping a hard surface to lift herself up. _"Real fucking MacGyver."

The light from the windows was enough to give her that this was the living room. She limped toward the direction of the garage and made her way into the kitchen. She turned on the light and grabbed a dish towel to wrap around her calf which at this point was bleeding profusely. The door to her immediate left with the key rack beside it must be the garage. Clarice unlocked the door and stepped inside, pleasantly surprised to find that there was no car in the garage. She hit the button and the garage door came to life. She returned to the car to find Dr. Lecter unchanged. It hurt like hell to push the clutch in, but she backed the mustang into the garage and closed the door. _Almost done. _She grasped the doctor under the arms and began the painful task of getting him inside. Getting the doctor to the living room floor would be the last thing she remembered. Utterly exhausted and in excruciating pain, Clarice had begun to black out.


	3. Chapter 3

Summary: Clarice is wounded and the good doctor unconscious, what will happen next

Thank you all for the kind reviews. Without further ado, Chapter 3…

Chapter 3

A single droplet of crimson moving slowly across porcelain skin, falls effortlessly on the tile floor. Clarice Starling lay unconscious, with one are wrapped around her chest, and the other hanging out over the floor, curled in the fetal position in Dr. Lecter's downstairs bathtub.

"Hey baby, wake up…"

_No answer._

"…c'mon hon, wake up…"

The voice was so familiar, yet it was one she hadn't heard in a long time. Groggily, Clarice opened her eyes to find her father sitting hands clasped across his knees sideways on the commode; the sitting position he always took when he had something serious to say. She noticed the blood stain in his hat was gone.

"Hey dad…" she smiled as best she could.

"How ya doin' kiddo?" He looked tired and sad.

"I'm not doin' so well—Dad I— I messed up, and I don't know what to do… I'm just so lost…" A single tear ran down her cheek and remoistened the dried blood.

"Shhh, shhhh…" He reached down to stroke her hair. "I been watchin' you baby an I ain't seen you mess up yet.

"The fish market, I—I shot a woman holding her child--"

"What you did," he interrupted, "was save that little baby. You pulled him out and rinsed him off so he wouldn't get infected. Evelda made her choice, baby; she dug her grave and now she's lyin' in it."

"Dad—I killed four people to save a serial killer…"

He furrowed his brow. "Let me ask you somethin' baby—did you do what was right by you?"

_A pause…_

"I always taught you to follow your heart and do the right thing, even when the right thing ain't so easy. Did you do that?"

She thought. She thought about what she felt when she received his letter of encouragement when the whole world was against her. She thought about the FBI and how they broke every oath she followed. She thought about the supermarket and what she felt when she saw Verger's men pull Dr. Lecter into the back of the van. She thought about the drive to Chesapeake and how she had never looked back.

She looked up at her father—looked him square in the eye and smiled. "Yeah Dad, I did."

Her father grinned that big grin she remembered from her childhood, just like they were peeling oranges again. "Well then you've got nothin' to feel bad for then, do ya hon."

She laughed a weak laugh, "I guess not."

Her father's grin faded away and took on a more solemn tone. "Baby, I love you more than anything else on this earth, and I am so proud of the person you've become. My little girl's all grown up…"

"I love you too, dad."

"I've gotta go now, sweetheart, I'm sorry I can't stay…"

"Let me come with you," tears began to fall.

"It don't work like that, baby— ain't your time." Her father rose to his feet and turned toward the door.

"Good bye darlin', I love you."

"Bye daddy, tell mom I said hi."

"I will." He smiled, and closed the bathroom door.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Dr. Lecter woke abruptly but remained still, eyes closed for several moments to assess his surroundings, and let the sedative work itself out of his system. There was a cool breeze blowing in from his left, and the air smelled faintly of the sea. He was home. He could still smell the filth of the barn on his clothing, and the metallic scent of blood that was not his own. The last scent was enough to make his eyes dart open. Dr. Lecter rose to find himself on the living room floor with Clarice Starling nowhere in sight. The window was broken and his eyes followed the wavering trail of blood leading to the garage, then to where he was lying, and finally-- to the bathroom door. Furrowing his brow, Dr. Lecter stood up, steadily walked to the bathroom and opened the door. What he saw nearly took his breath away.

Clarice Starling lay unconscious in his bathtub; head tilted slightly facing the door, arms clasped across her chest in an image of valor. _Exquisite._ She lie there with all the grace and sanctity of a blood-splattered, fallen angel. Dr. Lecter took a moment– only a moment– to capture this truly magnificent image of Clarice for his memory palace. Eyes clear and focused, control masking the look of concern, he knelt beside her and surveyed the damage. The bullet lodged in her left shoulder luckily missed her collar bone and would need to be removed, and the gash in her leg would require stitches, but overall the damage was minimal.

With the knowledge that she would recover nicely, Dr. Lecter closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, drinking in the metallic scent of blood and the primal scent of Clarice Starling– the scent of a warrior, the vision that she was. Eyes still closed, he smiled as he recalled her entrance into the barn, with her courage and infallible sense of right and wrong; watching her sense of duty fade as she– _reacted _to her adversaries at hand. Opening his eyes once more as he exhaled, he reached down to brush a loose strand of hair away from her face.

He did not expect to wake up in his own house, nor was he surprised that he did. Clarice Starling remained quite possibly the only person he could not predict, and he found this most intriguing. Gently, he lifted her head and placed a towel underneath. She had made a choice in coming here to Chesapeake; whether or not she understood her reasoning behind that choice, or the gravity and implication of it, he was unsure. Dr. Lecter smiled and rose to his feet. _Today will prove to be an interesting day. _ He turned, and walked out the bathroom door.

Dr. Lecter went upstairs to take a quick shower before attending to Clarice's injuries. He descended the stairs feeling refreshed, carrying medical supplies and a change of clothes for Clarice. He walked to the kitchen, glancing past the bathroom door to make sure the Clarice had remained unchanged, and set a pot of coffee to brew. Dr. Lecter cleared off the large, marble island bar in the center of the kitchen and began setting up his impromptu operating table. Once finished, Dr. Lecter stepped back and with his head tilted slightly to the left, surveyed his work to ensure everything was in place. It was a relatively simple procedure and the bar would do nicely.

A rustling of the shower curtain and a slight moan broke his silent revelry– further movement, followed by a loud CLANG and-- "Shiiiiiiiiiiit!", as the shower curtain and rod fell to the ground, hitting the tub's occupier in the process.

_Ah, the angel awakes._

Dr. Lecter halted his preparations and walked to the bathroom to find a groggy and confused Clarice fighting with the shower curtain. Silently, he watched her as she gained her bearings. She felt disoriented and numb from her sleeping position, and clearly surprised to find herself lying in a bathtub. She saw her own blood on her fingers and felt an aching pain in her shoulder.

"Good morning, Clarice."

He loved to say her name slowly, savoring the feel of the letters rolling off his tongue.

Clarice jumped at the all too familiar voice. She looked up, her face a mixture of pain and confusion. There, standing not ten feet away was Dr. Hannibal Lecter in the flesh– no bars, no mask– no barriers. Eyes fixated on Dr. Lecter's still form, she struggled to piece together last night's events that led up to this moment.

"Where am I?"

"I believe the appropriate response is to exchange a greeting, such as 'Good morning, Dr. Lecter', but, given the current circumstances, I'll let it slide."

He grinned a grin that reminded Starling of a fox smiling at a mouse trapped under its paw.

Sensing she was not going to reply, he continued, "You are in my home in Chesapeake, and more specifically– in my bathtub."

Visibly annoyed at his stating the obvious, "Why am I in your bathtub, Dr. Lecter?"

He chuckled, "_That_ is something I would very much like to know as well."

Aching all over, Clarice attempted to rise to her feet only to realize a searing pain emanating from her calf, causing her to fall back down. Dr. Lecter appeared instantly at her side to catch her as she fell. It was in that instant when she fell that she remembered what had transpired only several hours ago. The barn, the gunshot– _Jesus she'd been shot_– breaking into Dr. Lecter's house and now... now she found herself fully alert and staring into the eyes of Dr. Lecter, mere inches away from hers.

Sensing her apprehension at his sudden invasion of her space, Dr. Lecter released her from his grasp and stepped back. He did so enjoy seeing her out of her comfort zone. Clarice could feel a tingling sensation where his hands had touched her, yet the emotion it invoked could only be categorized as something-- other.

"Clarice, you were shot during your rescue attempt, and you've acquired the gash in your leg presumably from breaking in through the window. Do you remember any of this?" The playful, chastising tone from before had been reduced and replaced by a genuinely inquisitive one.

Returning to her previous sitting position, wincing from the pain, "Yes– I– I think so."

"Good. And now if you'll allow me to escort you into the kitchen, I can attend to your wounds." He smiled devilishly as he extended his hand.

_Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!! This is not the way it was supposed to go down. Not the way it was supposed to go down?! Well how the fuck WAS it supposed to go down, Starling? Seriously, tell me. Tell me what the grand, master-fucking plan was. Christ, you had no idea what you were getting yourself into, did you? Fuck me. I'm sitting in a serial killer's bathtub. _

_Sigh... I don't have the time or the energy for an internal conflict right now. Get it together, girl—don't let your emotions show. He'd love that._

Starling hesitated only for a moment, and took his offered hand. She might be a train wreck on the inside, but she'd be damned if she let it show.

As Starling limped across the threshold, her eyes fell upon the impromptu operating room. It was apparent the doctor had been awake for quite some time, and spared no expense in converting the kitchen into an OR. The counters were lined with various medical supplies, vials, syringes, and the like; and the island-operating table was complete with a blanket and pillow. He led her over to the breakfast table to sit down.

"There are just a few things I need to prepare before we begin. Would you care for some coffee while you wait?"

"Sure."

Starling sat staring at the table, her expression blank. She had well reached the point of utter physical and mental exhaustion where your mind runs in circles, and placing a firm grip on reality is unfathomable. She didn't want to think. It hurt to think. She didn't want to reason—she just wanted to wake up in the privacy of her own bedroom, relieved that this insane night mare was over. She knew it was coming. Knew it was just a matter of time before the inquisition began. He would probe her, make quips about her beloved F--B--I, make snide remarks about her father, and ultimately force her to face realities she was not yet ready to face. On any other day she could handle it, but today… today, today... Today, she was not in the mood. Not by a long shot.

--

I had originally intended for this chapter to go much farther, but I just HAD to get something posted. After all, it has been a very long wait, and for that I apologize. Thank you all so much for reviewing—I sincerely hope this chapter did not disappoint…


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